


Dirty Clothes

by theimaginesyouneveraskedfor



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 01:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor/pseuds/theimaginesyouneveraskedfor
Summary: Fili takes an interest in a laundress.





	Dirty Clothes

Your knuckles were raw and cracked, your hands burning from the lye. Your calluses betrayed your work and protected your flesh from the washing board. Years of laundry work had hardened not only your hands, but your mind. It was easy to resent those who soiled their bedsheets so often and muddied their breeches every other day. All while you were left to spend your time cleaning up after them, locked away in the stolid laundries of the mountain.

While those nobles of Erebor slept above, tired from a night of feasting and drinking, you lingered below. Your work seemed never to end. Those few hours you had to yourself were spent asleep. Sometimes you imagined yourself to be a character out of a story book; the reclusive princess held against her will; her lineage hidden from her.

But those were just dream. Little fancies to make your work a bit more tolerable.

You took a green tunic from the pile; it had grown familiar for how often you washed it. Either it was someone’s favourite or they were simply messy. Whatever the cause, the dye would be faded before it got a full day’s use. You took extra care not to catch the golden embroidery, turning it inside out as you soaked it in the tub of hot water and lie.

You hung it on the rack where the rest of the clothes waited. When they were no longer dripping, you could take them to dry in the summer air. The sunlight was preferable to the dank air of the laundries. You finished your load and filled the cart, laying out each garment neatly atop one another.

You took the wooden handles and pulled the barrow behind you, turning through the chambers blindly. You could feel the sweat at your temples and along the collar of your gown. The plain grey wool matched the walls of the mountain; marking your lowly bearing. And the fabric was suffocating in the humidity of your work.

“Oi!” The shout startled you and you slid to a halt, watching as a flash of golden hair appeared from around the corner and crashed to the floor. The dwarf had stumbled as he ran down the halls, likely on the one stone which had come loose and stuck up in a dangerous lip. 

“Aye,” He looked at his scraped hands and groaned, “Mahal’s sake.”

He clenched and spread his fingers, grumbling until he sensed your presence. His green eyes looked over at you, a subtle grin forming dimples in his cheeks. You knew the dwarf; not personally, but from afar. Any resident of Erebor would know the face of their prince and heir. Fili pushed himself to his feet, dusting his knees off with a flourish.

“Um, your grace?” You gripped the handles of your laundry; unprepared for a royal ambush, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I think so,” He examined his hands once more, holding them out as he began to step towards you, “What do you think? Will they have to cut my hands off?”

You realized he was being pernicious but you merely stared at the tender flesh of his palms as he stood before you. You shook your head, unable to hide your disapproval. It was dwarves like him, rambunctious and reckless, running around the mountain and falling in filth who kept your work endless.

“I think they still work fine,” He curtailed your response, “Well enough to help a lady as fine as yourself.”

He reached out, his hand grazing yours as it settled on the left handle of your cart. You recoiled, angling yourself away from him for fear of offense. It was not proper for a servant to be so near to a noble; to be close enough to breathe the same air.

“Please, I can do it myself,” You protested, keeping a hold on the other handle, “It’s my job.”

“I have faith in your abilities, my lady,” He placed his other hand beside yours, lifting the barrow from its feet, “But allow me to help. Just this once. A prince would be remiss–”

“I am not a lady,” You blurted out,, “My apologies, your grace, I did not mean to interrupt.”

“I don’t mind so much. Dealing with my uncle has conditioned me to being cut off.” His grin did not fade but you could only stare back in disbelief, “Alright …tough crowd.”

The prince began to drag the barrow, barely straining as the wheels rattled along the stone. You watched him with uncertainty and he paused, looking over his shoulder, “Well, are you coming? I wouldn’t want to be accused of being a laundry thief.”

“Um, yes, your grace,” You scurried to catch up with him, walking behind him as was proper for your status.

Silence filled the hall as you followed him. You couldn’t think of what to say and you were nervous of speaking out of turn.

“You know, I think it’d be easier if we all just did our own laundry,” He piped up, shaking you from your trance, “It’s really not fair to leave it to a dozen launderers.”

“You’re mocking me, your grace,” You replied.

“No, I’m not,” He glanced back at you once more, “Trust me, you would know if I was.” He winked and looked back to his path; the gesture unsettling you further.

* * *

Prince Fili pulled the cart all the way to the riverbank. You had thought he would have left you at the foot of the Mountain but he had carried on and continued his one-sided his banter. He stopped and set down the barrow as you began to take garments from it. There was a line from one tree to another for the very purpose of hanging them. It was your favourite spot on sunny days.

You hung the first piece, and the next, the prince standing quietly. He surprised you when he came up beside you and added to the line. You lifted the green tunic with gold embroidery and secured it next and he chuckled.

“Hey, my favourite shirt,” He said, touching the hem, “You got the stains out.”

“Your shirt?” You raised a brow, “No offense, my grace, but what in the world do your royal duties entail that your clothes are so filthy?”

“Hmm, not exactly royal duties,” He smirked.

“Speaking of, shouldn’t you be off doing something more suiting your status?” You continued to hang the clothing, Fili working in tandem with you, “…your grace.”

“Perhaps, I should,” He answered, “But to be honest, helping you gives me an excuse.”

“Excuse for what?” You paused, tilting your head at him as you imagined his mother often did.

“Well, my uncle Thorin was pursuing me before we met and I don’t suppose he’s given up. He is rather stubborn, that one,” He crooked his lips, his dimples growing deeper, “By nightfall he should have tired himself out.”

“And what exactly has a prince running from a king?” You mused; something about the prince was endearing despite his mischievous air.

“A certain surprise in his slippers,” He laughed to himself, shaking out a pair of trousers, “And I wouldn’t think you’d mind the help so much.”

“No, I guess I don’t,” You shrugged and carried on beside him, trying to retrace how you had started alone in the steaming laundries and ended up with the heir of Erebor in the sunshine.

* * *

On days when you were to clean bedclothes, all washing and drying was done on the shore. It was easier this way. You worked with the other launderers in wringing out the massive bed sheets and hanging them so they did not wrinkle. You enjoyed such occasions as you spent most of the day outside and you were free of the oppressive stone.

Out here, you could almost imagine you weren’t a servant but a mere dam doing her own laundry. When you were finished, you would walk through the trees and home to your amour. He would caress your roughened hands and loose your hair from its braid. But those were only dreams and you were still just a laundress.

You and Rori, your usual partner, were the only two left. Her face was red with excess and her panting heavy. She had been doing the job for nearly twice as long as you; even in Ered Luin she had toiled away with lye and linen. She treated you as if you were her own daughter and you almost liked her as well as your own mother.

As you hung a sheet, she stepped back and held her hips. The bags under her eyes were darker than usual and she looked frail despite the extra weight at her waist. You looked at the sun as it moved closer to the horizon then to the basket.

“Rori, why don’t you head back to the Mountain while I finish? It is my fault we are here so late, if I hadn’t lost the lye…”

“No, dear I can manage,” She waved you off, “I’m ready quite yet to be put to pasture.”

“I know but I can tell you need a good sleep,” You touched her arm kindly, “Please, I insist. There is not much left and I have done more by myself before.”

“And I suppose if I say no we should continue to argue in circles,” She crossed her arms but her eyes held a playful glimmer.

“Please, I’d feel worse if you stayed,” You nudged her and she shook her head, “Now go on.”

“Fine,” She reached up and swept a loose hair behind your ear, “Don’t you go getting lost.”

“I won’t Rori,” You rolled your eyes, “Good night.”

“Good night,” She returned, giving one last smile before heading for the trees. She gripped her hips as she walked and you watched her until she was beyond your sight. You hoped she took her own advice and found her way back to the Mountain safely.

It was better that she went. You had been unusually absent-minded of late and she was starting to notice. You told yourself it had nothing to do with Prince Fili but your head would not let you delude yourself into such denials. Yet, it seemed as of late you were running into him more than ever; which really, was at all.

Your first meeting had been chance but by the third, when you had been about to retire for the night and the prince had been lingering outside the laundries, you had grown wary. It could easily be coincidence, mere timing, and yet he seemed quite deliberate in all he did. His plotting never seemed to end.

Whatever it was, it mattered little. You had to finish the laundry by sundown and you were better off without distraction.

You readjusted your skirts, having tied them up to keep them out of the water. You finished the last few sheets, hanging them up as the river babbled peacefully in the afternoon din. You began to whistle without thinking as you felt the clothes along the line, testing to see what was dry and what still needed time.

A deep voice cut short your melodies, singing the words you could not recall. You looked to the tree line and an all too familiar golden mane appeared. Fili was smiling as his song came to an end and he looked you over, his green eyes lingering on your bare calves. You reached to let your skirts down but his voice gave you pause.

“Ah,” He held his hand up as a signal to halt, “Leave them…you have rather fine legs, if I say so myself.”

“Your grace,” You replied, a touch of scandal in your tone.

“In all that wool, I don’t see much of the dam hiding beneath,” He neared with a grin.

“I was just finishing up,” You explained, continuing your progress down the line, “Is there not some feast or banquet you need to attend, your grace?”

“Nothing of very much import,” He moved a sheet aside, peeking at you from the other side, “I’d rather be here…with you.”

“Getting in my way,” You spoke without thought as you ran your fingers along the damp fabric before you, “I mean–”

“No, no, I like your honesty,” He caught your hand before you could lower it, “But as prince, I must make my authority known.”

“What–” You yelped as he pulled you towards him, scooping you up in his arms. He turned, carrying to the river’s edge, your skirts riding up your thighs. “Please, don’t!” You pleaded, hanging onto him, “No!”

“Well, since you said please…” He acted as if he was going to set you down but suddenly came up, launching you into the water. You kept hold of him, pulling him with you as you splashed into the ripples.

You plunged below the surface, breaking through with a gasp as the water soaked through your gown. Your hair sagged heavy in its braid and you felt like shouting to the sky.  _Damn this prince!_  His golden head rose from the glassy ripples and you were ready to smack him, unafraid of the consequences.

“You!” You pointed at him, jabbing your finger through the air, “You scoundrel!”

“I won’t deny the title if it fits,” He tilted his chin as his eyes drifted lower, focusing on your chest, “Besides, I’ve been called worse.”

“What are you…” You looked down, your pale grey bodice clinging to your form, exposing your curves and accentuating your nipples. You may as well have been standing naked before the prince. “Oh Mahal.”

You brought your hands up to hide your breast and he chuckled, “Mmm, I like a dam can be intimate with her own body.”

“Ugh, I though princes were supposed to be charming,” You retorted.

“In our own way,” He winked at you and you felt the same disorientation as the first time he had done it. You were trying to figure him out but he was skilled at keeping you off-balance.

He turned for the bank, lifting his legs through the water and splashing you as he climbed out. He shook out his blonde hair and sighed, pivoting back to you as he began to unbutton his overcoat. You creased your brows and squinted at him as he slid the jacket down his arms.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s getting late, I don’t want to get a chill sitting around in wet clothes,” He tossed his coat over the line and removed his tunic swiftly. You tried not to stare at his bare chest, its dirty blonde fur shining with moisture, “You should be careful yourself.”

“I think I’ll survive,” You slowly dragged your skirts through the water, coming up on the shore.

“Your choice,” He smirked, eyeing your chest once more, your hands still shielding you. He kicked off his boots and stockings, unbuttoning his trousers with emphasis. You saw a twitch beneath the fabric and the realization of what it was made you blush, “Don’t worry, I’m not shy.”

As he made to pull down his pants, you turned away, a shiver running down your spine which had nothing to do with the evening breeze. You needed to stop thinking so much. _Why could you not stop?_ He was only a dwarf. A prince actually. And one who was standing behind you.  _Naked._

“You’re shivering,” He touched your shoulders as he neared, “I told you. You should take those off.”

“Mahal, why are you doing this?” You snapped as you turned on him, “Am I some little toy for you to play with or something?”

“Huh?” He looked, for once, off-put, “No, no. Y/N, this is anything but a game. I think you’re endearing. Your cynicism, your forced sense of propriety, and…those.” He glanced at your chest once more, “I’ll not lie and say this is some romance for the ages. And I am so pleased that my association with you would give my mother an attack, but more significantly, I like  _you_.”

“Oh,” You frowned, trying to process what he had said, “Oh.” Your face was contorted in thought. You stared at him, recalling that he was in fact nude. “Oh!’

“Oh?” He echoed, “Is that a good “oh” or…”

“Shut up before I change my mind,” You marched over to him and put your hands on either side of his jaw, pulling his lips to yours.

You felt his surprise at first, his hesitation, but then he kissed you back. Only moments ago, you could have strangled him. You still had the urge to but it stemmed from a much different place. You wanted to hold him against you forever. A hunger you had never felt so deeply.

How fantastical was it that you were kissing a prince. And he was kissing you back. And you could feel him poking through your skirts with his bared desire. It would have been an odd scene if any had happened upon it but you didn’t care enough to stop.

His fingers tangled in the laces of your gown, tugging and tearing until they snapped with a pop. It would take you some time to repair but he had already soaked the garment. Your bodice loosened and he brought his hand up along your arms, easing it down them. The air around you was cool but the heat within kept you warm.

You pulled on the collar of your gown until it fell away from your chest, separating from Fili to force it down to your waist. You felt shameful standing with your breasts uncovered but the sensation was entirely delicious. Fili hooked his thumbs under the waist of your skirt, his eyes smoky as he grinned at your chest. He gave a yank and let your dress fall to the dirt, running his hands up your torso.

His nails left a trail of goose pimples along your flesh; waist, hips, breast, collar bone. He kissed you again, travelling from your lips, to your jaw, neck, shoulder, and chest. Where his eyes had lingered, his lips lingered longer. Your head fell back as you reached over his shoulders, clawing at the flesh of his back.

He knelt before you, teasing your hip bones with his teeth. His thumbs traced the v of your pelvis, settling on the flesh of your thighs, squeezing and kneading them with a purr. He early growled as he petted the hair along your pubis, looking up at you with his same naughty grin. You could help but smirk back, struggling to believe it wasn’t a dream.

He nuzzled your sex, running his hands up the inside of your legs and you spread them for him. His finger grazed your lips, running over your nub, exploring every inch. He delved deeper, rubbing and flicking, your leg cramping and spasming all at once. He pressed two fingers against your entrance, slowly finding his way inside.

He curled his fingers, replacing his thumb on your clit with his mouth. The rhythm of his tongue was unyielding and as he moved his fingers, you could feel the pressure mounting. A weight, so hot and heavy, that release was the only remedy. You grasped his golden hair, pushing your pelvis closer to him and moaning for more.

You could take no more and yet your body hungered for it all. The tension burst within you and the heat spread along your thighs and hips, twining its way up your body until you were lost in the waves. You were crying out, not knowing if you were calling Fili’s name or telling him to stop. You could think no longer, all you could do was drown in the rapture.

Fili bit into your hip as he removed his hand, sending a chill up your spine. You were overly sensitive now but you didn’t want him to stop. You were breathing heavily, holding onto him for balance as he stood. He was still grinning.

He reached behind himself and pulled a sheet from the line, laying it in the ground. He directed you to your knees atop it, circling you as lowered yourself. He seemed to be thinking, trying to decide on his next move. He came up behind you, getting down and pressing close so that you could feel his member against your bottom.

He reached around and cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples before pulling back and running his hands down your back. He nudged your lower back and you arched, his fingers travelling further, pausing at your sex. He shifted closer and you felt his member as he adjusted it, pushing just inside you.

You groaned as he grabbed your bottom, helping you arch further to accommodate him. He entered you slowly, tauntingly. He reached his hilt, his chest pushed against you as he carefully began to move. He wrapped his arm around you to caress your clit. Keeping his motion steady. Quick enough to excite, slow enough to frustrate.

When Fili began to moan, he could not seem to control himself. As you were about ready to shout in need, he thrust sharply and his pace quickened. He pressed your shoulders, firmly but not unkindly and you fell forward onto all four. He grabbed your hips to steady himself. Your ecstasy mingled and your voices melded together, gliding across the water and barrelling towards the trees.

You bunched the sheet in your hands, not worrying about the stains you would have to beat out of it. Fili leaned over you, curling one arm around you as he continued to thrust. You felt the same heat building, the flames making you sweat until they flared, your orgasm coaxing a whine from your lips.

Fili was not far behind as he rested his weight on you a little more and he twitched with every movement, muttering under his breath as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth spill onto your back, his seed dappling your skin.

You let yourself down on your elbows, turning to sit up, your breath slowing as you looked to Fili who was half-collapsed atop the twisted sheet. “Great,” You reached back and touched your back, “Another mess for me to clean up.”

“Conveniently, we’re right next to river,” He looked pointedly to the water as he leaned back on his hands, “Though I’m not concerned about getting clean just yet.”


End file.
